Broken Smile
by ABoredMarvelFan
Summary: We all know that scene, "Mr Stark? I don't feel so good." We all felt our hearts break, but... What if it was different? What if it was Tony that died instead? How would Peter react? "Mr Stark, please. I don't want you to go. Please, Mr Stark, please." Peter begged, all pride and dignity gone and replaced with pure raw desperation. Or The one where Tony Stark died instead of Peter


When Strange withered away, he knew. He could feel it in his very bones, he could sense that his very being was being pulled apart. Atom by atom.

It felt like fire was licking at his skin, gyrating and dancing to a deadly song across his body. Provoking him, taunting him.

But that wasn't what had his attention, No, it was his mind.

He's always thought, always wondered, what he would do in this situation. Before, back in Afghanistan, the portal and the bunker, he'd always have a glimmer of hope. A small feeling inside of him saying that everything would be fine, he would live.

But now? That feeling was gone, leaving hollowness and cold acceptance in its wake.

Tony used to contemplate; late at night when he couldn't sleep, whether he'd rage, scream, cry. Whether he'd beg God, anyone or anything to let him live.

But no... He was here now with no hope and a certainty of death, yet he felt calm. A calmness he hasn't felt in years.

He was distantly aware that his mind was laughing at the irony, the first time he felt at peace was when he was about to... about to die.

His mind stuttered at the thought.

Die.

He's going to die. But, for some reason, that didn't bother him as much as it should've.

He snapped back to reality when a small gasp filled his ears. As the orange sky and broken ship filled his vision, he realised that one hand was clutching his chest while his knees shook under his body as his breath came out in small short pants.

"Mr Stark?" A timid voice echoed through his very being.

Peter... Oh God, Peter. Eyes snapping to the boy, he allowed them to roam and categorise everything. Desperately hoping and pleading that Peter would be okay, that'd he'll live.

And with a physical sigh of relief, he allowed his body to slump, bearly noticing that he'd fallen to the floor. Peter's fine, he's okay. His boy is gonna live.

"Mr Stark, please. I don't want you to go. Please, Mr Stark, please." Peter begged, all pride and dignity gone and replaced with pure raw desperation.

Tony felt like his heart was violently ripped out of his body and crushed in front of him. It hurt more than when Steve crushed his reactor and love along with it.

His vision blurred with what he realised to be tears. He opened his mouth to whisper a final goodbye, but it burned.

Dear god it burned.

He stifled a wince, the broken muscles tried to move but exposed nerve ending made it almost impossible. He never knew that pain could feel like a colour, his felt like white.

"Please, I love you. Don't go, dad, please." Peter's words died in his mouth when he realised what he said, his face going pale in shock.

Everything paused. His pain melted away and the world stopped moving.

Peter... Peter called him dad.

Happiness bloomed throughout his body, spreading its roots to every nook and cranny, filling what was left of him with contentment.

Dad. He liked the sound of that.

His tears of pain turned into that of happiness and felt a broken, cracked smile stretch upon his face. However, that smile quickly became strained when he realised his time was almost up.

Looking into the eyes of the shattered sobbing boy clutching onto his rapidly deteriorating body (That's what he was really, just a boy.) He tried to convey how much he loved him and how much goddamn pride he felt.

But he knew that wasn't enough.

Forcing his body to stay together for a couple more seconds he managed to mouth his final words. Smiling his broken smile through the pain, he prayed that Peter would live.

All turned dark.

* * *

Peter felt his breath shorten and accelerate, vision starting to blur. He knew he was having a panic attack but he didn't care.

It was uncle Ben all over again. He's cursed. He's gotta be, anyone he saw as a father figure died. His biological dad, Ben, Tony.

He unconsciously lifted his hand from the dust and wrapped them around his head, his body slowly curling up into a ball.

He felt someone, most likely Nebula, walk up behind him and place a gentle hand on his shoulder. But he flinched away. He didn't want anyone touching him, what if they died too?

Closing his eyes, he started to shake. Seeing ton.. dad. Seeing dad mouth his final words behind his eyelids. He didn't realise he was rocking back and forth until he almost lost his balance. He didn't care and didn't stop.

Watching the scene over and over again in his mind, like a broken record player. He tried to process what happened.

But, he didn't want to. He didn't want to process what happened.

He curled up tighter.

It was weird, he felt like something died in him with the snap too.

* * *

_'I'm proud you're my son.'_


End file.
